‘Tis the Season for Cheer, Jeers
I have been busy sending out my Christmas cards. Although they are personal, I don’t really mind your reading my messages.
Dear John Daly: Sober up.
Dear Bobby Hurley: Buckle up.
Dear Charles Barkley: Clam up.
Dear Quinn Buckner: Chin up.
Dear Vince Coleman: Grow up.
Dear Jose Canseco: Heads up.
Dear Leon Lett: Look out below you.
Dear Riddick Bowe: Look out above you.
Dear Monica Seles: Look out behind you.
Dear Arthur Ashe: We miss you.
Dear Heather Farr: We miss you.
Dear Jim Valvano: We miss you.
Dear Davey Allison: We miss you.
Dear Reggie Lewis: We miss you.
Dear Jerry Bailey: Stand tall in the saddle.
Dear Kent Desormeaux: Don’t stand in the saddle.
Dear Barry Bonds: MVP.
Dear New York Mets: LVPs.
Dear Evander Holyfield: Nice comeback.
Dear Roberto Duran: No more comebacks.
Dear Mike Piazza: The Godson, Part I.
Dear Tim Salmon: Keep slammin’.
Dear Terry Donahue: Red roses for a blue Bruin.
Dear Barry Alvarez: Took the bad out of Badger.
Dear Northwestern: Boston College?
Dear Notre Dame: Boston College?
Dear Marge Schott: Keep a leash on it.
Dear Bret Saberhagen: Bleach of promise.
Dear Michael Jordan: Things to do today: Mow lawn. Make beds. Buy shoes.
Dear Phil Jackson: Sorry, no four-peat.
Dear Marv Levy: Please, no four-peat.
Dear Pat Riley: OK, one one-peat. (Registered trademark.)
Dear John Starks: Butt out.
Dear Shaq: Jam on.
Dear Bill Laimbeer: Take out the trash.
Dear Marty McSorley: Speak softly and carry a smaller stick.
Dear Patrick Roy: Rah.
Dear Fred Couples: The tour’s top putter.
Dear Nigel Mansell: The tour’s top driver.
Dear Sam Malone: Happy hour’s over.
Dear Jennifer Capriati: Shop till you drop.
Dear Andre Agassi: Zentl?
Dear Mitch Williams: Wild Thing, I think they moved you.
Dear Tom Werner: Honor thy Padres.
Dear Atlanta Braves: America’s Bridesmaids.
Dear Lou Holtz: Read any good books lately?
Dear Reggie Jackson: Cooperman.
Dear Dennis Byrd: Good to see you back on your feet.
Dear Emmitt Smith: Take the money, run.
Dear Jim Abbott: Hitless wonder.
Dear Chris Webber: Does anybody know what time it is?
Dear Don Drysdale: Heaven’s pitcher.
Dear Roy Campanella: Heaven’s catcher.
Dear Joe Carter: It’s so, Joe.
Dear Nolan Ryan: Farewell to arm.
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